


Safety First

by phdmama



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 50 Reasons to Have Sex Larry Fic Challenge, Condoms, M/M, Pregnancy Scare, Silly People Being Silly, laughing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 13:32:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12912945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phdmama/pseuds/phdmama
Summary: Prompt 35 - some very protected sex to celebrate the fact that i’m not/you’re not/we’re not pregnant.





	Safety First

When Harry gets home, the lights in the apartment are low, and he can hear the murmuring of voices in the living room. He kicks off his shoes, wondering who Louis has over, trying to quell the feeling of disappointment. It’s Friday, his long day of classes, it’s been pouring all day, and all he really wants is to get delivery and collapse on the couch in his rattiest sweatpants, and do nothing but watch TV and maybe get laid, if they have the energy for it. He’s really not in the mood to be hosting anyone.

All his annoyed thoughts vanish, however, when he makes his way into the living room after hanging up his coat, and sees Louis cuddled up on the couch with Perrie. Her face is red and tear-stained, there’s a pile of used tissues on the beat-up coffee table, and she’s resting her head on Louis’ shoulder, as if exhausted. 

Louis looks up and Harry can see the relief on his face as he watches Harry enter the room. It’s not that Louis isn’t supportive, he really is, but he’s a man of motion and action. Sometimes, like now apparently, when there’s nothing he can do fix a problem, he feels helpless, and that’s not a feeling Louis Tomlinson enjoys. Harry’s just generally better with crying and sadness; all their friends know this, so the fact that Perrie is here with him means something is really wrong.

He drops his backpack with a thud and practically vaults the coffee table to get to Perrie, whose lower lip trembles when she sees him. 

He pulls her into a hug and says, “Perrie, love, what is it? What’s wrong?”

She’s quiet for a long moment, and then pulls back, her pansy-blue eyes drenched with tears as she says quietly. “I think I might be pregnant.”

Oh.  _ OH. _ Oh no. Harry’s heart sinks. Perrie is a senior, just like they are, and has already been accepted into the very competitive MD/PhD program at Johns Hopkins. She’s brilliant, driven, and has more than once asserted that she’s really not that interested in having kids anytime soon, if ever. 

Harry feels a bit of panic. This isn’t like getting dumped, or getting a B- on your organic chemistry midterm. This is real life shit, and all of a sudden, Harry feels much younger than his twenty-two years. They’re still kids, they can’t be having kids. Not now. He takes a deep breath, and then latches on to what she’s just said.

“Wait, a minute. You  _ think  _ you are? Or you _ are?” _

Perrie shrugs. “I mean, I’m late. Like 10 days. I was so fucking stressed over midterms, I just figured it was that, but then yesterday, my boobs were really sore.”

They were long past the stage of any sort of discomfort in talking about Perrie’s bodily functions — after all, they’d lived together for two years before Harry moved upstairs into this apartment with Louis. Harry just frowns, trying to remember the lectures that Perrie has given him about the female reproductive system.

“That can happen, right? Stress can delay ovulation?”

Perrie nods, her shoulders slumped. Harry’s never seen her look so defeated. 

“I mean,” Harry asks delicately, “Did you hook up with someone and not mention it? Like, during a time where you might have been fertile? I thought you were on the pill.” He carefully doesn’t reference the multiple times Perrie had outlined for him great detail why the pill was terrible.

Perrie flushes. “I was, but it was such a shit show that I went off it last month. So, I should have been ovulating during midterms by my chart, but then I was all off-schedule because I was studying so much. I figured that since I wasn’t really that into anyone I thought I had a chance with, you know, that it wasn’t going to be an issue until I could get into my gyn for the IUD appointment.”

Louis speaks up now. “So, I mean. You don’t have to tell us…” Unspoken is the comment that Perrie is a chronic oversharer and usually tells them everything. “But you didn’t mention anyone.”

“Oh god,” Perrie flushes and covers her face for a moment. “Okay, so it was during midterm week, and I was at the library late, studying bio, ironically enough, and then I ran into Jake.”

As one, Louis, Harry and Perrie all take a moment of silence in appreciation for the sculpted beauty that is Jake McGonagall. Jake’s a senior, he’s on the hockey team, he’s got black hair, deep brown eyes that Louis had compared to “the finest Kentucky bourbon” once when he was drunk (and Louis doesn’t even  _ like _ bourbon), all of his teeth, and an ass that just won’t quit.

“Wait, he was in the library?” Harry asks and Perrie smacks him half-heartedly. “Was he lost?”

“Don’t stereotype, he’s actually really smart. Well, kind of smart.” Perrie shrugs, “And we got to talking, and then, I don’t know, all of a sudden we were having sex in his thesis carrel.”

“Was it good?” Harry asks, fascinated. 

Those carrels are small. Not, Harry thinks with a private grin, that  _ that _ is going to stop anyone with a strong sense of determination and some basic flexibility, but still. 

Perrie shrugs. “It was a good study break, I guess. And he’s been texting me since, but I don’t know. I’ve been busy. And I didn’t even think about it, because he used a condom, but still, everyone knows that those aren’t foolproof. And then it hit me Monday, that I was late.”

“Perrie,” Louis chides gently, “You should have told us.” Whether he’s referring to the library sex or the worry, it’s not entirely clear, but his tone is entirely loving and supportive, and Perrie just crumbles again.

“I just, I don’t know what to do.”

She collapses forward onto Harry, and he can feel that her tears are leaving damp spots on his neck as he holds her, rubs her back, and thinks about what to say.

“I think,” Louis says quietly, “You’ve got to take the test, Perrie,” and Harry sees it then, the CVS  bag sitting on the arm of the couch.

“I know, I know,” Perrie says. “I’m just, what the fuck am I going to do? I can’t have a baby now, I just can’t.”

Louis opens his mouth, but Harry just shakes his head at him. 

“Perrie, let’s just… cross that bridge when you pee on it, okay? Take the test now. Go use our bathroom, and then. We’ll be right here, and we’ll help you figure it out, together. Okay? But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Perrie sighs, wipes her eyes and blows her nose. “I know. I know you’re right, I’m just. I want to throw up. Oh god, what if it’s morning sickness?” 

“It’s evening,” Harry says, entirely unsure if that’s really how morning sickness even works. He’s a history major, not pre-med. He stands up, picks up the bag and hands it to her. “C’mon, just go do it. Then you’ll know. It’s always better to know, right?”

She sighs, stands up as well, and squares her shoulders before marching into the bathroom and shutting the door with a click.

“Fuck.” Louis says softly, running a hand through his hair. “That was not what I was expecting.”

Harry drops down onto the couch next to him, and Louis pulls him in for a quick cuddle and kiss.

“How was your day, baby? Things good at internship?

Louis nods. “It was good.” He pauses for a moment. “Mike said something about offering me a job after I graduate.”

“What?” Harry sits bolt upright and stares at him. 

Louis’ been interning with a local record company, and working in the music industry is definitely his life’s goal, so this is big. Really big. Harry’s already been accepted to Tufts for law school, so they know they’re staying in Somerville, but Louis has been anxious about their upcoming graduation.

“Baby, that’s amazing! We should celebrate!” Then he remembers what they’re in the middle of and sighs.

“Yeah,” Louis shrugs, “Perrie was waiting by the door when I got home, so I haven’t really thought about it. Let’s just see what’s going on here.”

Harry’s heart swells with love. Louis is, he thinks, one of the most generous and compassionate people he knows. 

“I love you,” he says softly, and is leaning in to kiss Louis when they hear a choked cry from the bathroom.

“Oh shit,” Louis says, and Harry’s stomach drops.

They both get up and rush to the bathroom door.

“Perrie, babe?” Louis says.

“C’mon, Per, open the door, sweetheart. It’ll be okay.”

Perrie opens the door, and she’s crying, yes, but she’s beaming as well. She waves the pregnancy test at them. “One line,” she yells. “One line, I’m not pregnant!”

“Oh thank  _ god,” _ Louis says.

Harry feels the panic he didn't even register he was holding on to, leave him and he sinks to the floor in relief.

Perrie is grinning and shaking and slides down the wall next to him. “Oh my god,” she says over and over again. “I’m so relieved, oh my god.”

“Me too,” Louis says fervently, joining them on the dusty hallway rug. “Okay, when is your IUD appointment?”

Perrie snickers, “Next Wednesday. You know,” she pauses consideringly, “I guess I was just nauseous from anxiety.”

“Wonder why your boobs were hurting?” Harry says absently, laying down on the floor and staring at the ceiling, feeling the rush of adrenaline leaving his body.

Perrie makes an odd sound and then says, “Well, it’s possible I’ve been worried about it, and I read that sore boobs are a pregnancy symptom, so I may have been, you know, checking them.  A bunch.”

A snicker bursts out of Harry before he can stop himself. “So, in trying to figure out if you might be having symptoms, you’ve been squeezing your boobs a whole bunch and made them sore? Which made you think you were pregnant?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Perrie mutters, and there’s a moment of silence as they all contemplate the baby-shaped bullet she’s just dodged.

“I need to go out,” Perrie says decisively. “I want to do shots and celebrate.”

“Sounds good,” Harry says, and so, a half an hour later, they’ve staked out their spot at the bar at the Burren and Perrie is already two shots in.

Niall is behind the stick tonight, and gives her a concerned glance as he sets a pint down in front of her. “Hey, love, go slow there, okay? Everything all right?”

She nods, and gives him a brilliant smile. “It’s better than all right, Nialler.”

Two hours later, they’re all ready to head home. Perrie is wasted. Harry had confiscated her phone an hour ago, to keep her from texting Jake, which had led to some weeping and declarations of eternal love on her part, which had been their cue to head out.

They get her back to her own apartment, make her drink some water and take some ibuprofen, and leave her a note telling her that Harry still has her phone. Finally, they’re back in their own space. 

“Well,” Harry says, “I am so relieved that worked out okay. That was kind of a harsh dose of reality, you know?”

Louis nods as they make their way into their bedroom. “God, I need a shower. Yeah, I know what you mean. Like, it just sort of hit me, we’re graduating in a month, Perrie’s off to Baltimore, you’re going to law school, even I might have something to do.”

He disappears into their postage-stamp sized bathroom and Harry hears the water turn on.

“Wait a minute,” he calls, stripping out of his clothes and wandering after Louis, who’s now under the spray. “What do you mean, even you?”

“Oh, you know,” Louis ducks his head under the water, closing his eyes. His eyelashes starfish out against his cheekbones and Harry swallows. “I’ve been just feeling a bit lost, not sure how to make things work, you know? But I’d love to stay at Rounder, then once you’re done with law school, we can figure out the next step.”

The casual confidence in his voice that they'll still be together in three years just does something to Harry, and he swallows again, hard. He steps into the shower, and they move around each other with practiced ease as Louis soaps himself up, and Harry waits patiently for his turn under the spray. He feels Louis’ soapy hands run down his back and groans in appreciation. 

“M’sorry you've been worrying, wish you’d said something.”

Louis works into the tight muscles of his lower back and laughs. “I wouldn’t say I’ve been worrying, just...thinking about it.”

His hands slide down, slick as they move over Harry’s ass, and Harry can’t help but press back into the eager touch.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers, knowing Louis hears him over the pounding of the water.

He feels Louis’ breath hot on his neck as Louis whispers, “You want to?” Louis’ grip tightens.

“Yeah,” Harry murmurs back, “I want to.”

“Can I fuck you?” Louis’ finger slips down into the heat of Harry’s ass. “I really want to fuck you tonight.”

Harry groans as Louis’ touch becomes more insistent, as he strokes over the entrance to Harry’s body. “Of course, Jesus, Lou. Yeah. I want to.”

They rinse themselves off, knowing the hot water heater in their old building is not equal to the demands of shower sex, and Louis turns off the water while Harry grabs towels from their heated towel rack.

The air between them is thick with anticipation as they dry off, and Harry can’t believe how hard he is already. This is Louis, his boyfriend, known and beloved, and yet, something feels different tonight. Heavier. Weightier somehow, as if this act is more than just sexy fun, as if they’re about to consummate vows to each other. Vows Harry already knows he wants to make, vows they’ve  _ already  _ made in so many ways, but that Louis has confirmed with his casual talk of three years from now.

They move into the bedroom in silence, and Louis pulls Harry into a hot kiss. They cling to one another, skin to skin, for a long moment, until Harry can’t wait any longer. He pulls away, and drops down onto the bed, before yanking Louis down on top of him, reveling in the feel of Louis’ body against his, the press of Louis’ hard cock against his belly as they gasp and move together. 

Louis makes his way down Harry’s body, alternating between kisses and gentle nips that have Harry arching and writhing under his touch. He takes his time, opening Harry up with sure fingers that know exactly where to press to wring moans, long and low, from Harry as he surrenders himself to Louis’ care. 

Finally, at long last, Louis whispers, “I think you’re ready, baby. Do you feel ready?”

Harry pants, one arm thrown over his eyes, “I’m so fucking ready, Lou, c’mon. Get in me, now.”

Louis grabs the lube, and slicks himself up, lines up, and then, as he’s poised to push in, his face moves into a strange expression and he stops.

Harry pulls his arm away and stares up at him. “You okay? Hey, Lou. What’s up?”

Louis laughs, and looks almost embarrassed, and Harry stares at him. They’ve lived together for almost nine months. They’ve been together since they were eighteen. He’s seen Louis in just about every state there is, drunk, sober, sick, sad, scared, ecstatic. They’ve shared everything, been as close as two people can be, and Harry can’t imagine what Louis has to feel embarrassed about.

Louis huffs a laugh and then pulls away. “Okay, I know it’s stupid. But I just can’t stop thinking about Perrie, and I keep hearing my mom’s voice in my head, those lectures she gave me before I told her I wasn’t going to be fucking girls, and she just, she had me so paranoid about ‘always use condoms.’” 

He mimics his mother’s voice and Harry can almost hear Jay in his head.

“Louis,” he says slowly, “You might have forgotten, but I’m a guy. I don’t have a uterus. I can’t get pregnant.” 

He sees to his shock that Louis’ erection has deflated.

“Babe, really?” They almost never use condoms, unless they’re really concerned about the mess, and Harry’s not even sure they  _ have  _ any condoms. Louis is staring down at his penis in consternation as Harry says carefully, “You want to use a condom? Tonight? So I... don’t get pregnant?”

“I can’t explain it,” Louis cries in exasperation, “But yeah, I think...I do. Is that okay?”

Harry laughs, and says, “Lou, of course. I just. Do we have any?”

“Shit,” Louis worries his lower lip for a moment and then his eyes light up. “We took them on that camping trip last summer. The backpack’s in the spare closet.” 

“Okay,” Harry says, standing up. “I’ll go find them. You… get that sorted out.” He waves in the general direction of Louis’ groin, and Louis snorts, and lays down on the bed. 

Harry hurries down the hallway to the spare closet and opens the door, rummages around and pulls out Louis’ frame backpack. He looks in a few different pockets and finally finds a strip of condoms, figures it doesn’t actually matter if they're expired or not so doesn’t bother to check, and heads back into the bedroom.

He stops short at the sight of Louis laid out on the bed, waiting for him, all toned, golden skin littered with tattoos, chest flushed as he’s obviously taken Harry’s instruction to heart. He’s hard again, running his hand over the slick length of his dick as he watches Harry cross to the bed.

“Find ‘em?” Louis asks, running his thumb lazily over the spongy tip.

“Uh,” Harry stutters out, mesmerized by the slow movement, “Yeah, yeah I did.”

He breaks one off of the strip, tosses them onto pillow and then slides on to the bed next to Louis. He opens the packet, carefully rolls the latex down over Louis, and presses him back onto the bed when he moves to sit up. 

“No,” Harry  says thoughtfully, “I think I really want to ride you.”

Louis’ head thumps back onto the pillow as he groans, and Harry carefully straddles him, and takes a deep breath before exhaling as he sinks down slowly.

There’s a moment of stillness as they just look at each other, and suddenly Harry grins. Without unseating himself, he leans over, grabs the strip of condoms and tears one off.

Louis frowns. “Uh, Harry,” he says carefully, “You may not have noticed, but I’m actually already in you. And I’m already wearing a rubber.”

Harry tears the packet up, pulls out the condom and tosses the trash to the side.

“It’s not for you, babe.” He carefully rolls the condom down over his own achingly hard dick, hissing a bit at the thrill of the contact. “It’s for me.”

Louis stares at him, and then starts laughing, his stomach shaking as he sputters. “Oh my fucking god, are you kidding me?”

“Nope.” Harry can’t help the grin that stretches his mouth wide. “You really can’t be too careful, Lou.”

He turns his attention back to their current activities, and begins to move, Louis occasionally still snorting with laughter even as he’s groaning in pleasure as Harry takes him in and in, over and over again. For several long moments, the only sounds in the room are their hitching breaths and gasps, and the creak of the bed as Harry moves, chasing his own pleasure, knowing this alone is enough to get Louis there. He moves faster, grinding down harder, until he feels the stutter of Louis’ hips as he thrusts up, crying out Harry’s name as he comes.

Wrapping his hand around his gloved-up cock, Harry strokes firmly, knowing it won’t take much now, and when Louis reaches up to scrape his nails gently over his nipples, he gives a choked cry as he arches and comes hard, filling the condom as he shudders through his orgasm.

As the last of the intense waves pass through him, he slumps down onto Louis’, feeling Louis’ cock slip out of his body. He rolls off of Louis to snuggle in next to him, making a face at the feel of his come cooling in the condom. He sits up, divests himself and then Louis of the used condoms, and then wraps them into a couple of tissues and tosses them towards the trash. 

Louis murmurs his appreciation as he wraps his arms around Harry, pulling him around to rest on his chest where Harry listens to the sound of Louis’ heart, still racing in the aftermath.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that, right?” Louis says finally, the smile Harry can’t see from where’s he’s resting evident in Louis’ voice.

Harry shrugs, and snickers. “After all, Lou. Safety first.”

 


End file.
